Blind
by Zellarest
Summary: When Draco meets Ginny in Knockturn Alley and decides that maybe she isn't as blind as he thought. /Mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, Harry/Ginny. Written for the Quidditch League.


Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

"_Drink the poison lightly_

_'Cause there are deeper and darker things than you_

_I know, 'cause I've been there too._"

- I'm Not The One, 3OH!3

.,.,.,.,.,.

Since becoming considered a blight on wizarding society, and thus someone to be disliked among the general population, the last thing Draco found pleasure in doing was venturing out where the stares and muttered insults followed him so relentlessly. But there he was, walking down the cobbled road of Diagon Alley. Hands kept firmly in the pockets of his trousers, he kept his eyes away from any particular person and focused on the tip-tap of his shoes against the ground instead of the hisses and snickers of passerbys. The thought of it all set his teeth on edge.

Still he found the restless chatter difficult to ignore. Each step, each tip-tap, became ten. With each elongated _s _the distance between him and the steps leading to Knockturn Alley multiplied. He found himself running his thumb along the smooth wood, biting the inside of his lip, and wondering whether or not hexing every last coward on the street was worth a visit to the Ministry.

Shaking his head tersely, Draco rid his mind of the thoughts and continued on down the road. Soon the unpleasant hum of numerous voices mingling together lessened as he finally reached the winding steps that led downward and he found himself taking several deep breaths while relaxing his tensed shoulders.

Keen to hurry the process along, he took the steps two at a time and listened to the beat of his soles against them. _They're almost musical, _he thought offhandedly. Not a moment's time had passed since Draco had begun down them and was off down the street they led off onto.

This one, much unlike the previous, was dank and poorly lit. In addition to the tapping noises, his shoes caused gentle pish-plashes in the water that had gathered in tiny puddles along the cobbled path.

Curiously, he encountered few others along his way except for a little old lady with several moles and an ugly grimace that only deepened upon sight of him.

"Too dangerous," he muttered.

That would be the only reason the alley's regular crowd were less than eager to roam freely about its cobbled paths and admittedly shady shops.

For a moment the only thing that was heard were the sounds of displeased birds and his shoes against the stone. It seemed almost eerily peaceful, he supposed.

Then a low voice announced loud and clear, "Draco Malfoy."

With a noiseless gasp he stumbled and turned quickly around at the voice. It didn't take all of two seconds before he spotted the owner, who leaned against a building cleverly named "Milly's Tattoo Manor" in sparkling cursive above the entrance.

A thin white cylinder in between her two fingers and her glittering black heel against the battered building, she smirked. "What, you don't recognize me? The only daughter to the Weasley name in seventy years, the girl cursed by Voldemort by a tragic happenstance? Or, best of all, girlfriend to the great Chosen One?"

"Ginny Weasley," he said forcefully to prove that he did, in fact, know. Aside from the red hanging off her shoulders, he recognized her easily from their rivalrous school years. "What're you doing here?" he asked with a little less force.

"What? Is Knockturn Alley too dangerous for fragile little Ginny?" she snorted bitterly. "Save your breath; I've have enough of _that_ treatment to last me at least another century."

Draco had to mentally restrain himself from taking hold of her wrist and dragging her from the place, even if it meant her kicking and screaming. The guilt would haunt him if anything happened to her knowing he had done nothing to prevent it.

Scowling, Ginny lifted the bottle to her lips and poured it back. Dark red liquid slipped behind her lips, turning the pasty background of her freckles a similarly harsh hue.

"Want some?" she offered with a satisfied smirk, the lush red liquid sloshing around in the bottle and being accompanied by an unpleasant noise.

With clarity, Draco remembered how she was possessed by Voldemort in her first year at Hogwarts. Her innocence had all but vanished since then. The war had affected them all but for those who had lost loved ones, it was the hardest.

With a grimace Draco answered flatly, "No thanks."

"If you say so," she sighed, bringing the white cylinder to her lips next.

Draco only just realized what it was when Ginny lit the end, inhaled, and closed her eyes. Softly, as though whispering air onto a dandelion, she exhaled thin white smoke through her parted lips. With an unabashed smile, she opened her eyes to look at him as he spluttered and coughs in the cloud of smoke.

"For the love of Merlin, did you have to blow that right into my face?" he exclaimed furiously while waving his hands about to expel the putrid stuff from the air.

"Yes," she answered simply, giving him an almost vindictive smile.

But he couldn't say it was so, for her surprisingly warm brown eyes danced playfully in the little light that was provided.

"Look, you're not staying here, and I'm not leaving you, so either you come willingly or I'll drag you up those steps. Your choice, Weaslette."

"Look here, you cowardly snake, I'm not going anywhere with you and I'll be damned if I let you drag me anywhere. So either you bugger off or I'll drag _you_ somewhere. I hear it's especially warm this time of year," she threatened while pointing a firm finger at him. "Your choice, _ferret_."

Draco deducted that this wasn't going to be as easy as he initially thought. Without further debate, he decided it was time to find out _why _she was down here before doing anything extreme.

Not keen to sugar-coat the situation, he bluntly asked, "I figure Potter really _did_ enjoy his time with Chang, then?"

Ginny scowled at him, snapping back with, "I'd be surprised if she even wanted to talk to him. Married a muggle," she explained with a tight-lipped frown.

He paused, thrown by the negative response. Slowly, he continued, "I see. So what's the problem?"

She didn't look at him as she spoke in a near whisper, "I told him I didn't want kids for a long time. I want to focus on my job. He didn't like that. Especially when I said I didn't want too many. He wasn't mad until I said that there were more important things than having kids."

"You don't want to be a housewife? I'm surprised of you, Weasley."

For a second she laughed before falling silent again.

When she spoke again, her voice was louder, but retained little of the confidence it once held. "Yeah, well, so was Harry. Decided I was done. Came here for a smoke, stayed for the drink."

Though her eyes were focused on a dip in the stone, he could still feel the regret radiating from her in her slumped shoulders and almost sickly pallor. Draco almost felt bad for Ginny Weasley for the first time in eight years.

He took a few seconds to study her averted gaze before asking tentatively, "Are you going back?"

Suddenly her gaze snapped onto him, with the ferocity he remembered her for. Ringed with red, her eyes glittered furiously. "What do you care? The infamous Draco Malfoy, Death Eater extraordinaire! Close to Voldemort, weren't you." It wasn't a question. "What do you care of _anyone_?" her voice dropped to a low whisper, as she had her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to keep herself together.

"I stopped to talk with you!" he retorted angrily. "But I guess that was a mistake."

"I guess it was!" she shouted back.

He snorted. "I guess we're both same as we were, aren't we? Just a little less than perfect on the inside."

Openmouthed but silent, she offered no assurance to him. The bottle wavered in her hand and the smoldering stick lies on the damp ground.

"I can honestly say I do not care whether you kiss and make up with Potter, but next time you decide to have a drink, make sure its at least somewhere reputable."

"I won't. I won't go back to him until he apologizes," her words were half-hearted, and she sounded like she trying to convince herself.

The look of pity he gives her wasn't. "You should," He laughed briefly before finishing with, "But then again, I'm Draco Malfoy. Who am I to care?"

His harsh steps echo around the road. The frown that fell onto his lips stemmed from his impatience with the foolish girl. Could she be so blinded by her own selfishness that she could not see? To have everything is to be ignorant, he thought peevishly.

But when he heard the telltale _CRACK! _that accompanied Apparition, he smiled.

Maybe she wasn't so blind, after all.


End file.
